I pushed the squeaky cart down the crowded aisle cursing the stupid wobbly wheel as Parker walked ahead scanning the rows for the particular brand of potato chips he claimed he had been fantasizing about. No judgment on his particular fantasies. Apparently, his dad wouldn’t let him indulge in junk food. It explained Parker’s smoking-hot body—something I couldn’t deny even though I wanted to—but it didn’t explain why Mr. Hayes thought two teenagers would follow that rule when he sent over two hundred dollars without specific instructions.
I had half a mind to force Parker into the same strict dietary regimen he griped about the entire drive to the store for kicks, but that would mean I would have to follow it too and steamed broccoli and skinless chicken breast didn’t sound too appetizing. Especially not when I lived off coffee and boxed dinners. My system might go into shock.
Then I took several minutes as Parker rambled on debating the pros and cons of going into shock but decided an actual sickness wasn’t worth the trouble. By that time, we reached the store.
What I should have done was stay at the house and left the shopping to Parker to give me some peace and quiet, but I was going stir-crazy and he promised that I could pick out whatever junk food I wanted.
Win-win.
It would have been a triple win if Parker wasn’t there at all. But alas, no such luck.
He sauntered over to the beat of the cheery pop song playing from the overhead speakers carrying two bags of chips. He held one out. We both laughed.
“Dill pickle?” I snagged the bag from his outstretched hand. “God, we used to cram as many of these as possible in our sandwiches.”
“Even in our peanut butter and jelly.”
“My mom used to call us monsters.” I tossed the bag in the cart. Defiantly getting them.
“They just didn’t have refined palates like us.” He clasped his hands together in front of his chest and scanned the aisle again.
“I think we’re stocked plenty. Why don’t we get some stuff to make dinner? As much as I love junk food, I don’t want to die of a salt and sugar coma.”
“Ugh, fine.” Parker tossed his head back in mock exasperation, the hair on his neck brushing his collar. Much longer than he wore it as a kid. “But I’m getting a ton of pop.”
“Sure. Whatever. Go grab that and meet me by the deli. I’m sure I can grill us some steak or burgers.”
“Five minutes.” Parker held up one hand, fingers spread.
“Three. If I give you that long, you’ll get every flavor the store has.” He winked at me and walked away.
I headed toward the deli with a strange feeling in my gut. Almost as if I had swallowed a bag of rocks then topped it off with a gallon of water, leaving my stomach a cramping, gurgling mess. Parker hadn’t been the same since the party and his unusual behavior weakened my resolve to hate him. Sure, he was still a giant jackhole, but we had been so close at one point. Best friends. Inseparable. There might even have been a moment where I thought maybe we would end up together.
Okay, it was more than a moment. Fifth through seventh to be exact. Then he went and ruined it. Shattering my heart in the process. But something about being with him, hanging out just the two of us, brought old feelings to the surface. And those feelings deserved to stay buried, deep, deep down. The last thing I needed was for Parker to figure it out. He would be like a dog with a bone.
“Lily? Lily Holladay?”
I turned toward the masculine voice and almost tipped over my cart. “Milo Moretti?”
The stranger smiled at me and suddenly he wasn’t a stranger. Milo was my first boyfriend in middle school right after the whole Parker-ditching-me thing. We dated for half the year before his parents relocated. Military kid.
He wasted no time scooping me up into a bear hug. My legs dangled off the floor and I couldn’t help but notice how tall he had gotten. And muscular. He’d done some growing up in four years.
When he set me down I was flushed and breathless.
“What are the odds of running into you?” His expression seemed genuine. Friendly. My heart did a little dance in response.
“Like slim to none.” I pushed a few strands of hair his enthusiastic hug knocked loose out of my face. “What are you doing back in Washington? I thought your family moved to California?”
“I’m visiting friends. They come every year and I try to join them when I can. What are you doing up here?”
“Spending a week on the lake.”
“No way. Well, it looks like my summer got even brighter.” He smiled down at me revealing that dimple that sucked my thirteen-year-old heart in. It looked even better on his now scruffy face.
My cheeks warmed as a butterflies danced in my stomach to the same rhythm they had whenever Milo used to look at me. Time and distance hadn’t killed my first crush. Okay, okay, second crush, but first where something came of it. Embarrassed at the thought that I was being transparent I glanced away in time to see Parker rounding the corner.
“So I got cherry, vanilla, and for fun—” Parker stopped dead in his tracks when he took in Milo standing close to me.
Milo turned when he caught my gaze. “Parker? Well damn, it is a small world after all.” He extended his hand, but Parker just looked at it, back up to his face, and shrugged motioning with his chin to the three cases of pop in his hands.
“Oh. I’m such a spaz.” Milo reached out and took one of the cases from Parker. He sent a wink my way as he leaned over to put it in the cart. “Who you shopping for, a group of ten-year-olds?”
I chuckled because it was an accurate description of our cart. And Parker. Parker on the other hand snorted and settled an arm over my shoulders, drawing me to his side. Warmth from his body leached into mine. Spicy cologne invaded my nostrils. A sharp zing shot through my chest. All of that should have made me angry, murderous, but that’s not what happened.
My brain stopped working, grinding right to a halt, and I was pretty sure my lungs were on the way to joining it when Milo glanced at Parker’s arm.
“Lily and I figured we would let loose this weekend since we have the lake house to ourselves. Fully stocked bar. Hot tub. Why not add some junk food to the mix?”
My whole body blazed with the sudden rush of blood and heat. What the hell was Parker doing?
“Oh, wow, your parents are cool with you staying up here alone?” A crease formed between his brows as his gaze bounced between us, flicking so fast I was surprised he didn’t get dizzy.
“Why not? We’ve known each other since grade school.” Parker leaned his head against mine.
Milo nodded and locked on to me, eyebrows arched.
You can work anytime now, brain. Tell him that Parker is just being an ass—that our parents would have never said yes if the original plan included us alone.
I opened my mouth and…nothing.
Awesome.
“Cool. Cool. Well, I should get back to my friends, make sure they didn’t ditch me. Good seeing you, Parker, Lily. Maybe we’ll catch each other on the beach…” With that he left. Ran actually.
Parker snickered at my side and all at once my brain unlocked. A little too late.
“What the hell, Parker?” I shoved him off me, which only made him laugh harder. Doubled over, clutching his stomach as if it was the funniest thing in the world. In reality, it was the farthest thing from funny. For several reasons. One of which I didn’t want to process.
“Oh, come on. It was too good to pass on. You should have seen his face.” Parker motioned to where Milo disappeared around the baking aisle. “Besides, Milo is a douche.”
“That’s funny, I was just thinking the same thing about you.” My heart raced from anger. Yeah, anger. It had to be that.
Parker turned to me, all trace of mirth gone. “What, you’re telling me you wanted to talk with him? Didn’t you two date or something? I saved you.”
Saved me? Good lord, the boy had a God complex.
“Yeah, we did, but we ended on good terms. He moved away.”
Parker shrugged and grabbed the cart, elbowing me out of the way. “Thought I was doing you a favor. My bad.” He left me standing there, fuming, staring at his back.
If he thought he could get away with acting like that, he was sorely mistaken. Suddenly, I couldn’t wait to catch him talking to a girl. If he could dish it, then I would make sure he could take it.
* * *
By the time we made it back to the house and unloaded the groceries, all I wanted to do was curl up in bed and read. Parker had other plans.
I winced as he turned up the speakers. The neighbors no doubt could hear every lyric the singer was screaming. Yes, screaming. No idea when or why, but it seemed Parker got into screamo music. And they were bands I hadn’t heard since middle school when we both used to make fun of them.
“Mind turning it down?” I yelled as Parker racked the pool balls.
He ignored me. Or didn’t hear me. My ears were bleeding so his had to have been.
I should have gone downstairs and threw on my headphones, but the speakers were directly above my bedroom. Nothing short of losing my hearing would block it out. So, I set about searching for the remote that controlled the speakers. If I couldn’t find it, I wasn’t above finding and stealing the power cord.
Right as I started tossing couch cushions aside a hand landed on my shoulder followed by hot breath on my ear. “What are you doing?”
I jumped about a foot, whirling around to face an amused Parker. My skin tingled where his mouth had been seconds before. “Turn it down!”
He cupped his hand to his ear, but damn it, I knew he heard me. I shot him my patented death glare, but he just rolled his eyes and walked over to the pool table.
I was going to take that pool cue and shove it up his—the music cut off and Parker waved the remote in the air.
“Happy?”
“Yes, thank you.” I headed for the door but each step I took brought back the music another level. By the time my hand touched the knob, it was blaring again.
“Really?” I yelled.
The screaming halted yet again. Parker cocked his head at me, a stupid grin pulling at his lips. Daring me to try him. The boy was far more obnoxious than I remembered.
“So you plan to hold me hostage via terrible music?”
“Play pool with me.”
“No thanks, I’d rather drink bleach.”
The god-awful music started up again, and I groaned, head back, eyes rolling so he would know how annoyed I was. “One game!” I help up my pointer finger as emphasis.
Parker settled on a reasonable volume before poking me in the ribs with a pool cue. I snatched it out of his hand and shot him another dirty look.
“You break.” He stepped out of the way, but I shook my head.
“No way. I haven’t played pool in years. You’ll be lucky if I don’t launch one of the balls off the table and destroy something.”
“You were always terrible at it.” He lined up his shot, the muscles I shouldn’t be noticing in his forearm flexed, and a loud crack echoed through the room a few seconds later.
“I wasn’t terrible.” Okay, I totally was, but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction admitting that.
Several of the balls rolled into the pockets leaving Parker with his pick.
“You have absolutely no hand-eye coordination. Stripes.” Parker bent down and sent another ball straight into the corner pocket next to my hip.
“I had pretty good hand-eye coordination when I punched Mickey Lewis in the throat.”
Parker laughed, causing him to miss his shot.
I brushed past him as I tried to determine the best outcome. I didn’t have many choices that wouldn’t make me look like an uncoordinated idiot. The boy was right. I was terrible at pool. Mini golf. Anything really that required me to put a ball into a hole.
“What did he do again to deserve that kind of punishment?”
“He grabbed my ass during Friday assembly.” I missed my shot by a mile and cursed under my breath.
“Oh, that’s right. You ended up with detention for a week and Principal Hudson told him to never sit next to you again.” Parker walked behind me, his forearm brushing against mine. For some reason my heart kicked up a notch. He didn’t seem fazed.
I cleared my throat hoping it would calm my heart. “He should have been expelled.”
Parker missed his shot.
“If I had been there, he would have gotten more than a punch to the throat.”
I managed to sink ten blue. For some reason I couldn’t contain my squeal of excitement. Proving him wrong “Oh, because little old me can’t protect herself?”
“No, because seeing his hands on you would have sent me into a fit of rage.” His hazel eyes locked on mine. They had more green in them than I remembered.
The pool stick slipped right past the cue ball and slammed into the edge of the table.
I didn’t know what to say to that comment, it was so out of left field even in reference to young Parker. Thankfully I didn’t need to say anything and Parker broke the weird vibe with a deep rumbling laugh and a slap to my upper back. I might have felt that laugh deep in my stomach. And another part of my body.
Get it together, Lily.
“Yeah, you’re not terrible at all.” Parker’s cocky grin was back helping to reel in my wayward thoughts.
See. It was just Parker. Parker. The same boy who filled my umbrella with confetti sophomore year. Let me just say, wet confetti is way worse than dry confetti. Pretty sure I was still finding it places a year later.
“You distracted me.” I pretended to pout, trying my best to keep us on neutral territory. One slip and he would see he was getting to me.
“Uh-huh.” Parker sank three shots in rapid secession, leaving him with just the eight ball.
“So…” He leaned up against the bar, cue stick clutched against his chest. His face serious. “You planning on meeting up with Milo?”
Okay, not what I expected him to say.
“That’s really none of your business.”
“Didn’t you guys date all of eighth grade?”
It was surprising Parker even remembered that. We dated the same year Parker ditched me to hang out with the cooler crowd. “Half. He moved in the spring.”
“So what, was he like your first kiss or something?” I might have imagined it, but I could have sworn there was an edge to his voice.
“What difference does it make?”
He shrugged. “Just trying to figure out if you’re still low-key in love with him or something. Aren’t you supposed to be eternally in love with your first kiss?”
“I think you mean the first person you sleep with.”
Parker leaned over the table, cue stick gripped so tight in his hand that his knuckles turned white. “So, who’s that lucky guy?” He looked up at me evidently waiting for my answer.
An answer he would have to continue waiting for. “That’s none of your business.”
Parker took his shot, landing the eight ball in the far corner pocket.
“Game, I guess. Good job.” I tossed the pool stick on the table and headed for the door. I couldn’t get down the stairs fast enough.
In the past week I had gone from being harassed by Parker to his forced girlfriend. Then he miraculously let me out of the stupid dare and had been treating me like the friend I once was to him. But the personal questions, digging into my relationships, and blocking Milo from talking to me at the store? That was just plain weird. If I had stumbled into an alternate reality, I wanted back and fast before my heart got attached again.